~ Exploring our Catholic family history

Author Archives: Jasia

Here are the names of the Felician Sisters that were assigned to the parish of Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary in Detroit, Michigan at the time of the 1940 U.S. Census.

Mary Dombrowska (Head), age 42, born in Ohio.
Anthonina Parz, age 73, born in Poland.
Petronella Kosmecko, age 55, born in Poland.
Pauline Cichs, age 53, born in Michigan.
Frances Strugarek, age 53, born in Poland.
Anastasia Gatza, age 48, born in Michigan.
Anna Nowak, age 45, born in Ohio.
Veronica Zawodna, age 48, born in Ohio.
Sophie Grabowska, age 46, born in Michigan.
Mary Dembowska, age 43, born in Ohio.
Helen Szczepanska, age 42, born in Michigan.
Anna Bodalska, age 29, born in Pennsylvania.
Bernice Konwinska, age 33, born in Michigan.
Mary Gersztyn, age 28, born in New Jersey.
Regina Blaszczak, age 28, born in Pennsylvania.
Genevieve Konopka, age 24, born in Michigan.
Loretta Korkus, age 25, born in Michigan.
Helen Polakowski, age 22, Pennsylvania.
Hedwig Witalec, age 24, born in Michigan.
Frances Markowska, age 21, born in Michigan.
Loraine Sitkiewicz, age 52, born in Poland.

I want their names to get out there, appearing in search engines across the Internet. It’s been my experience that nuns were often the forgot lot among those who chose a religious life. When I look back on the 25th and 50th Jubilee books for Assumption parish (published in 1937 and 1962 respectively), I find that the priests had full page portrait photos with their names as captions (not just the current priests but the previous as well) but the nuns had no photos or names at all in the 25th Jubilee book and only photos with the children in their classrooms in the 50th Jubilee book. Their names were not included. It’s almost as if they took vows of not only poverty and chastity but of invisibility as well. I find that very sad as they worked every bit as hard as the priests. Yet little mention of them was made in commemorative publications.

Assumption Sisters in the 1940 U.S. Census

I wish these circumstances were only true for Assumption parish, but sadly that’s not the case. I have 14 parish jubilee books and the lack of photos/names of the good sisters from those parishes is all too common. They just never seem to have gotten the billing that the priests, the choir, the Rosary Society members, those making their first Holy Communion, the Holy Name Society, the Altar Boys, etc. got. So I’m glad to see their names in the 1940 U.S. Census and I’m happy to extract those names here for their family members to find.

Today, Monday, April 23rd, is the feast of St. Wojciech/Adalbert, who is revered as one of Poland’s oldest saints and in fact one of the great patron saints of the Polish nation. He is a saint also of great importance to us, Polish-Americans of the Archdiocese of Detroit, because the very first Polish parish in the city of Detroit was placed from its very beginning under the protections and patronage of St. Wojciech. Wojciech was born of a noble family in Bohemia in 956, ten ears before Poland became a Christian nation with the baptism of King Mieszko the first bishop of Magdeburg. It should also be noted that Adalbert and Wojciech are two different names, not the Latin and Polish equivalents of the same name! The name Wojciech in Slavonic means “Help of the army.” The English name of Detroit’s first Polish parish “Albertus” was the name mistakenly given to the church at the time of its dedication. Albertus is the Latin form of Abert. This mistake was never corrected in the 117 year history of the parish, which closed in 1989.

As a child, Wojciech was consecrated to the Blessed Virgin by his parents who feared losing him to sickness. They promised the Virgin that Wojciech would live under her patronage with the clergy. Wojciech received an excellent education at the cathedral school of Magdeburg. In 982 he was ordained a subdeacon by the bishop of Prague. Though only 27 years of age, he was elected bishop of Prague in 983, after the sudden death of the previous bishop. Wojciech entered the city of Prague barefoot as a symbol of his humility. He was received with enthusiasm by Boleslaus II, prince of Bohemia, and all the people of that city. He proceeded to reorganize the diocese but was saddened to learn of the religious state of his flock. Most were Christian in name only. He withdrew to Rome in 990 but returned to Prague in 994 at the insistence of Pope John XV. Again he encountered difficulties and a refusal to accept the true gospel in Prague, which caused him to withdraw from Prague to Rome. Once again the Pope, Gregory V at this time, ordered him back to Prague.

The people of Prague, however, refused to admit Wojciech to the diocese and so he turned his attention to the conversion of Poland (Pomerania) to Christianity as a missionary. He made converts at Gdansk but later met with scorn as he and his companions were accused of being spies.

On April 23rd, 997, he and his companions were martyred near Krolewiec by being beaten to death with oars. After severing his head and fixing it on a pole which was carried throughout the village, his body was thrown into the Nogat River, a tributary of the Wistula, and washed up on the Polish coast. The body was held for ransom by heathens who received a small fortune, the weight of the body in gold, from Boleslaus, Duke of Poland, for its return. Later in 998 his body was enshrined in Gniezno; some of his relics, however, were returned by force to Prague in 1039. Adalbert was canonized a saint in the year 1000.

When St. Albertus parish was organized by the St. Stanislaus Kostka Society (a group of Polish immigrants attending the nearby German St. Joseph Church) they chose the Bohemian born St. Adalbert/Wojciech as their patron. The date of the meeting of organization of the new parish was April 23rd, 1870, the feast of St. Wojciech. He was a fitting choice for patron as many of the early parishioners of the Church had come from that area of Poland known as Pomerania and Poznania where St. Wojciech had ministered. They were known as Kaszubs and spoke a dialect of Polish heavily influenced by the German language.

Wojciech was the first great adopted patron of the Christian Polish nation. He had been venerated for over eight centuries as Protector of the Poles when he was selected to be the patron of Detroit’s first Polish parish which was primarily composed of Kaszubs.

When the first St. Albertus Church was dedicated on Sunday, July14th, 1872, the name of the patron was inadequately translated from the Latin Adalbertus to the English Albertus, thus forever identifying Detroit’s first Polish parish by the misnomer Albertus. Such is life! For better or worse, the Mother Church of the Detroit Polonia is known, at least in English, as St. Albertus.

My great grandparents, Szymon and Ludwika Lipa were members of St. Albertus parish in Detroit when they first immigrated to the U.S. Some of my grandaunts and uncles were baptized and buried from that parish as well.

Although I was never a member of that parish myself, I created a website for the parish and served as webmaster for several years.

I have numerous Granduncles and a couple grandfathers named for St Wojciech.

My mother, who always held her Polish heritage near and dear to her heart, died on this day in 2007.

I had intended to write about St. Wojciech in honor of his feast day today but when I read the very nice article Fr. Borkowski had written I knew I could do no better.

There has been a Catholic presence in the city of Detroit since the parish of Ste Anne was founded in 1701. The city was first made a part of the Diocese of Bardstown, Kentucky in 1808 and then it became a part of the Diocese of Cincinnati in 1821. Pope Leo XII named Detroit as a diocese in 1827 but for some reason his proclamation was not implemented. Once again, in 1833, Detroit was made a diocese with Father Frederick Rese as it’s first bishop and Ste Anne as it’s first cathedral. March 8, 1833, was the official date that the Diocese of Detroit was founded. That was 179 years ago today. The territory of that initial diocese included all of Michigan, Wisconsin, Minnesota, and the Dakotas east of the Mississippi River.

When Michigan officially became a state in 1837, the boundaries of the diocese were realigned to match the state boundaries. As of 1841, the Diocese of Detroit had 18 priests, 30 churches, and some 24,000 Catholics. The population continued to grow and many new churches sprang up around the state. The densest population center continued to be the city of Detroit. In 1853 the upper peninsula became a vicariate.

By 1870, the Diocese of Detroit had 88 priests, 80 churches, and 150,000 Catholics. The following year, in 1871, Detroit’s Polish immigrants petitioned Bishop Borgess for a church of their own. Permission was granted and the first Polish Catholic church, St Albertus, was founded in the area known as “Poletown”. When my great grandparents, Szymon and Ludwika Lipa, first arrived in the U.S. from Poland (1881) they became members of St Albertus parish. Their first American-born child, Stanislaw, who was born on March 8, 1882 – 49 years to the day after the founding of the Diocese of Detroit, was baptized there.

As more and more Polish immigrants came to Detroit they settled primarily in two different areas of the city, one on the east side, Poletown, and one on the west side. It didn’t take long before the Poles living on the west side wanted a church of their own so as not to have to travel all across the city to hear Mass said in their native language. In 1882 the second Polish Catholic church in Detroit was founded. That was St Casimir. The communities of Polish immigrants continued to grow and flourish and the third and fourth Polish parishes were founded in 1886, Sweetest Heart of Mary (east side) and St Francis D’Assisi (west side). A fifth Polish parish was founded shortly thereafter in 1889, St Josaphat (east side).

The entire Diocese of Detroit was growing as immigrants continued to flood the city. The population swelled and so did the churches. My maternal grandparents arrived here in 1912 and 1913. Many more Polish Catholic churches were founded in the years just before and well into the new century. Some of the parishes my family were members of included Sweetest Heart of Mary (1886), St Francies D’ Assisi (1886), St Josaphat (1889), St Hedwig (1903), St Hyacinth (1907), Assumption BVM (1911), St Andrew (1920), and Sts Peter and Paul (1923).

On May 22, 1937 Detroit was elevated to an Archdiocese and Edward Francis Mooney was named as the first Archbishop. At that point the Archdiocese had more than 800 priests, 345 parishes, serving 602,000 Catholics. This would later become known as the “Golden Era” for the Archdiocese of Detroit, when the pews were packed to the point of standing room only for many Masses. That same year the makeup of the Archdiocese was changed as Lansing became a diocese and Grand Rapids and Marquette were made suffragan dioceses. The following year, in 1938, the Diocese of Saginaw was formed.

It was in the 1940s, during WWII, that the first expressways were built in Detroit. More followed in the 1950s. Those major thoroughfares cut through many parish neighborhoods as they were being constructed. Some historians point to those first expressways as the beginning of the decline of some of the Catholic parishes in the city of Detroit. As homes were bought up to make way for the expressways, people were displaced and often moved farther out from the city.

For the most part, the Catholic churches in the city proper still flourished during the 1950s and 1960s but more and more people were moving to the suburbs and new churches were being built there to accommodate the population shift. In 1967 there were serious race riots in the city and that seems to have been a real turning point. Many Catholics fled to the suburbs because they no longer felt safe in their Detroit neighborhoods. They sold their homes in the city to African Americans who usually weren’t Catholic. That movement became known as “white flight”. The Archdiocese of Detroit shrunk even more in 1971 when the Dioceses of Kalamazoo and Gaylord were created.

A handful of Catholic parishes in the Archdiocese of Detroit were closed or merged during the 1960s and 70s but by the end of the 1980s it became clear that more needed to be done to deal with the population shift. In 1989, thirty-one parishes were closed by Cardinal Szoka. Among those 31 parishes were St Albertus, the first Polish parish, St Casimir, and Assumption BVM which members of my family belonged to. Another 40+ parishes were closed or merged since the year 2000. And sadly, even more will have to be closed or merged this year.

As of 2009, the most recent year I can find statistics for, there were 271 viable parishes in the Archdiocese, 60 of them were located within Detroit, Hamtramck, and Highland Park, 195 were suburban parishes, and 18 were considered to be in rural areas. The Archdiocese of Detroit now consists of six counties, Lapeer, Macomb, Monroe, Oakland, St Clair, and Wayne. Many, many of my extended family members still live within the boundaries of the Archdiocese of Detroit.

On this day, the 8th of March, I celebrate the 179th anniversary of the founding of the Archdiocese of Detroit and the 130th birthday of my Granduncle, Stanislaw Lipa.

Back in her youth, my mother belonged to a Catholic organization known as the Young Ladies’ Sodality. Over the years when she would reminisce about the days of her her youth, she would always mention the Young Ladies’ Sodality. It was an important part of her life for many years and she had many pleasant memories of her involvement with the group. She took great pride in being an officer of the group as well (treasurer).

I heard her stories many times over the years but I never thought to ask specifics of what the group was about. I know it was affiliated with the parish her family belonged to, Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary Catholic Church, in Detroit, Michigan, but I don’t know much else. So here I am reflecting back on her life and wondering why I didn’t ask her for more information about the Young Ladies’ Sodality (YLS). Since Mom is no longer with us on this earth, I’m left to do the research on my own. Here is what I’ve come to learn about the YLS…

The Young Ladies’ Sodality was a Catholic church society for young ladies that had four components: 1) Religion, 2) Purity & virtue, 3) Charity, 4) Social. The emphasis on each of these four parts seems to have differed somewhat from parish to parish and from age to age. There is plenty of evidence of these societies being in existence in Catholic parishes in the U.S. back in the 1800s. They may well have existed before that.

Religion
First and foremost, the YLS was a religious group. As these groups were formed in parishes they would establish a spiritual relationship with the Virgin Mary as their patron. If the local YLS was affiliated with the Mother Soldality in Rome members could receive indulgences and privileges granted by the Holy See. Members were usually required to receive Holy Communion once a month with the group and attend Mass together on Holy Days. They were also encouraged to pray the rosary often. The YLS provided guidelines for Catholic living and taught morals in keeping with the church.

Purity and Virtue
In the 1800s and early 1900s there seems to have been an emphasis on purity and virtue and the societies promoted that in a number of ways.

For instance, there were “rules” of comportment. These were usually not written down and spelled out specifically but rather were known by the elder women who were the sponsors and guides for the young ladies who were members. YLS members were expected to conduct themselves in ways befitting a group that was under the patronage of the Virgin Mary. They would have been expected to dress demurely, maintain a pleasant attitude to those around them (especially those less fortunate), respect their elders, and refrain from lewd language and behavior. Those who broke the rules risked being censured or expelled from the group.

In many parishes the members of the YLS were granted special privileges. As a result of this it was something of a prestigious group and young women deeply desired to become members. Examples of these privileges included: marching with the group (usually dressed in white with blue ribbons) and carrying the society banner in parish ceremonies and processions, at her wedding a member might be allowed white satin kneeler covers, special candles or flowers, and be allowed to present a bouquet of flowers at the altar of the Virgin Mary, and if she chose a religious life instead of marriage she would receive special prayers and Masses from her fellow members.

Charity
Acts of charity seem to have been a common denominator of the Young Ladies’ Sodalities and something they spent a good deal of time doing. They organized fund raisers most often to benefit their own parish. Often they would “sponsor” a stained glass window in the church, buy altar linens, ecclesiastical vestments, candlesticks, tabernacle curtains, nativity displays for Christmas, altar flowers, etc. They also worked to help those less fortunate. During WWI, at least one Detroit parish YLS sold and collected bonds to help victims in Poland. In older parish jubilee books it is common to find a list of items donated to the church by the YLS. These donations seem to be what the group was most appreciated for by the clergy.

Social
Young Ladies’ Sodalities provided a good many social opportunities for young Catholic women. I have not been able to determine any specific age range for members but it appears that young women commonly joined at about age 14 (typically 8th grade) and could remain members until they married or joined a religious order. My mother was the treasurer of her parish’s YLS the year after she graduated from high school so I think it’s safe to assume that membership did not cease with high school graduation.

YLS groups commonly hosted dances, theatrical performances, lectures, and group outings, all within the framework of the Catholic church. This is where young girls learned socially and religiously accepted behavior at social functions… how to interact with the opposite sex in appropriate ways. Often parishes that had Young Ladies’ Sodalities also had Young Men’s Clubs, which were the young men’s counterpart to the YLS. The two groups would help each other out at events with such things as taking tickets at the door or in the coat check room. And it goes without saying that they interacted frequently at parish functions.

Membership in the YLS also provided a network of friendship and support. When my mother needed a third letter of recommendation (from someone with a title) to get a job she turned to a fellow YLS officer with her plight. That lady friend just happened to be dating a state Congressman at the time and she was more than happy to make a request on behalf of her “friend from church”. My mother got the letter and got the job at the Federal Reserve Bank!

At the time of the Silver Jubilee of Assumption parish’s Young Ladies’ Sodality, they had 150 members. Fifty-five of those members are pictured below (my mother is circled). This photo appeared in the YLS Silver Jubilee booklet.

Young Ladies' Sodality, Assumption BVM Parish, Detroit, 1937

Here is a picture of the ladies that were officers in 1937 and who worked diligently to put on a celebratory dinner and evening of music to mark the Silver Jubilee.

Today, Young Ladies’ Sodalities are virtually unheard of. There are a number of reasons for this but I think it’s safe to say that the main reason is that they simply lost their usefulness and popularity. Catholic church attendance is down and so is memberships in all church sponsored societies. Young girls no longer value purity and virtue the way they once did so joining a group that proclaims that publicly is no longer desirable. There are social opportunities around every corner, and online, for young girls and no “rules” to have to learn for how to conduct oneself. And charity works for the needs of the church… well, it goes without saying that young girls today are not much concerned with that. More’s the pity because the church still has needs… maybe more now than ever. They could use the energy and enthusiasm of youth to help with fundraising and prayer.

I suspect that Young Ladies’ Sodalities fell victim to the rise of women’s liberation in the 1960s and 1970s. A friend of mine was a member of her parish’s Young Ladies’ Sodality in the mid 1960s. I belonged to a parish just a short distance from her but I don’t remember there being a YLS at our parish in the late 1960s or early 1970s when I would have been of an age to join. Our parish had a “Teen Club” which had some similar objectives, fundraising and chaperoned social activities, but it was a coed organization and lacked the emphasis on purity or religion that the YLS once had.

Were you a member of a Young Ladies’ Sodality or was someone in your family? What were your experiences with the organization?

My parents sent my brothers to Catholic grade school but I begged them not to send me. I wanted to attend the local public school because the kids that were my age on my block weren’t Catholic. Not a one of them. So they were all going to the public school and I wanted to be with my friends. My parents gave in without a big fight so it was off to public school I went.

But that meant I had to go to religious education classes after school at our local Catholic church.

When I was very young, they were called “Catechism” classes. I started them in the fall of 1st grade and they were held every Monday at 4pm throughout the traditional school year, save for the religious holidays that gave us a day off. In later grades (7 & 8) the classes met at 7pm and were referred to as “CCD” classes, which stood for Confraternity of Christian Doctrine. Yeah, that’s a mouthful, hence the CCD abbreviation. Now a days they call them “Faith Formation Classes”. It’s all the same thing.

True confession: I never really enjoyed catechism classes. First off, they were always held on Mondays. Mondays already felt like long boring days at school and adding another hour+ of education felt like torture. I’d get home from public school about 3:30pm and I’d have to be at catechism by 4pm so that didn’t leave much time to grab a quick snack and head back out the door for the long ;-) (.5 mile) walk to our local church.

I hated that walk.

I had no one to walk with. And my parents never drove me or picked me up. So when it rained, I walked. And when it snowed, I walked. And when it was windy and bitterly cold, I walked. And by the time classes were dismissed (5:30pm), it was dark out or close to it for much of the school year. So then I had to walk home alone in the dark, in the rain, snow, wind, and bitter cold. And let me tell you, that half mile seemed like 5 miles to me! True, I had to walk to public school in the elements as well but I always had friends to walk with and that made it so much more bearable. When it came to getting to and from catechism classes, I was on my own.

In first and second grades, my catechism teachers were nuns. It was their job to prepare me for my First Holy Communion and Confession which happened at the end of my second grade school year. I also had nuns for teachers a few other years but I can’t remember specifically which grades. I don’t remember the nuns ever smiling or being friendly in the way that my public school teachers were. They were strict and for the most part had a “no nonsense” attitude. They did a good job of keeping us in line and teaching us our prayers though.

During the Advent season, just before Christmas, I remember making cut-out stained glass windows using card stock and colored cellophane paper. I thought those were really cool.

During Lent we were given “Lenten banks” which were tin cans, kinda the size of cat food cans, with a slot in the top. We were expected to fill our banks with coins and return them just before Easter. I wasn’t a fan of giving up some of my allowance for the Lenten cans but I did it because it was expected of me.

It was either the 7th or 8th grade when I had a male teacher for catechism. I tend to think it was 7th grade because I don’t remember him helping prepare us for our Confirmation (at the end of 8th grade). Anyway, he was totally lost with a room full of teenagers and didn’t know how to keep us in line. Some of the boys in my class made fun of him (he was kinda nerdy) and I don’t think he even realized it. It sure made the rest of us crack up though. Looking back, I recognize that was really rude of course. But at the time it made for a humorous year of CCD classes!

Those are the highlights I remember from my catechism years. The church and school where I attended catechism classes is still standing, still a Catholic grade school and a place for public school kids to attend “Faith Formation” classes. I suspect most of them get driven and picked up from their catechism classes though. It’s a different world now, not the one-car-per-family world I grew up in. I wonder if the kids like their catechism classes any more now that they don’t have to walk miles by themselves in the blowing snow, uphill, in the dark, without… ;-)

Grade school wing of the Catholic school where my catechism classes were held

Today, February 2nd, is the 40th day after Christmas Day. For people of Polish descent who faithfully observe their ethnic customs, it is the last day of the Christmas Season. This holy time of year always comes to an end with a very important Church Feast, The Presentation of Our Lord in the Temple. On this special day we commemorate Mary and Joseph bringing the child Jesus to the temple in Jerusalem for the first time, 40 days after His birth. According to the ancient Law of Moses, every Jewish mother was excluded from attendance at public worship for 40 days after giving birth to a boy child. Mary fulfilled this command of the law by presenting two pigeons as a sin offering and through the paryers of a priest was pruified from the ritual uncleanliness associated with childbirth. This feast day, therefore, was formerly called the Purification of Mary.

Today the feast is commonly known as Candlemas Day because of the blessing of candles which takes place at the beginning of Mass. The lighted candles are carried in procession in church to remind us that it is Jesus Christ who is the true Light of the World, a Revelation to all the nations and the glory of the People of Israel.

In Poland this day is called Matki Boskiej Gromnicznej which is translated literallly as Mother of God of the Thunder Candle. The candles blessed this day are called gromnicy or thunder candles because they are kept in the home for use especially in time of thunderstorms to protext the house from being hit by lightning. They are also a protection against other natural calamities such as floods, fire and drought. The blessed candles are also lit at the bedside of the dying to protect the individual from Satan, and to light the way to heaven. It was believed by many that at the time of death there was a contest for the soul of the dying between angels and the devil.

At the Seminary in Orchard Lake, Michigan there is a beautiful painting hanging in one of the halls which depicts Mary walking at night through the snows of the Polish countryside, carrying a large candle in her hands as if it was a sword. At her feet wolves can be seen running fearfully away from her and from the small cottages of the townsfolk she is protecting. Polish legend says she walks across Poland with her gromnica aglow, protecting homes and farm animals from many packs of hungry wolves, that prowl about looking for prey during the harsh Polish winters.

Even though we do not live in rural Poland, on this occasion I encourage us all to invoke the Blessed Virgin for her help and protection on one of her special feast days. May Mary continue to protect each one of us from the dangers that roam the dark streets of our world at night during the remainder of this winter.

My maternal and paternal grandparents were married at Sweetest Heart of Mary Church, were members of the parish, and no doubt walked in procession there for the Candlemas celebration. It warms my heart to think of them celebrating this very Polish, very Catholic, feast day.

It’s no secret that there’s a shortage of Catholic priests here in the United States. Virtually all dioceses and archdioceses are scrambling to figure out how to cope with the situation. In the Archdiocese of Detroit they have been working on constructing a plan for the future since 2004. Representatives from each parish have been a part of the planning process. A few weeks ago, the proposed plan that the representatives came up with was made public. That plan would have 9 parishes close and another 60 merge into 21. These are pretty drastic but unfortunately necessary changes. They aren’t the first parish closings in the Archdiocese of Detroit and likely won’t be the last.

At some point in February 2012, Archbishop Allen Vigneron will announce which of these changes, recommended by parish representatives, will need to be implemented. It is expected that the plans approved by the Archbishop will be implemented immediately and completed by June 2012. As you can imagine, it’s made for some anxious times for many metro-Detroit Catholics. Nobody wants to see their beloved church and Catholic community closed or merged. Everyone is hoping their parish will be spared. But at the same time we know that can’t be.

As a Catholic, I understand how difficult it can be to let go of one church and begin worshiping at another. Over the years you develop friendships and allegiances with neighbors and church staff that are difficult to replace at a new parish. You’ve established routines over the years and there’s comfort in the familiarity of knowing what to expect in your parish throughout the liturgical year.

It’s even more difficult for the Catholic genealogist and family historian. Parish records get relocated. Family histories that are tied to a given parish for several generations must end. Traditions that are tied to the church will come to an end as well. A Catholic church and the Catholic faith are ties that bind many families over generations. These are institutions that are held as sacred. Respected. Honored. It’s difficult to imagine life without them.

The houses my grandparents and great grandparents lived in after they immigrated from Poland to Detroit are all gone now. One by one they were razed as a result of urban blight and urban renewal. Of the 6 Detroit churches my ancestors had strong family ties with, 1 parish was closed and the building razed and 1 parish was closed but the building remains. The other 4 churches are still standing and have active parishes but few registered parishioners. Who knows how much longer that will be the case? They are in neighborhoods that have few houses left standing and they rely heavily on people coming in from the suburbs to attend Mass. I suspect a couple of these churches will be closed. That makes me very sad.

Sweetest Heart of Mary Catholic Church

I can’t revisit my grandparent’s houses. With those buildings no longer existing I’ve relied on visiting their parish churches to connect with them. Whenever I attend Mass at one of those beautiful old churches I can’t help but think of them. I run my hand along the back of the pew during Mass and wonder if they sat in that same space and touched that same pew. I go to Mass and walk down the same aisle they walked down for communion more than 120 years ago. I make my confession in the same confessional they did and wonder about what sins they may have confessed when it was their turn to talk to the priest. I gaze at the same stained glass windows I know they gazed at when the beautiful morning sun came streaming through and set the colors ablaze. And I wonder about the glory of God the same way I know they must have.

When I attend my local suburban church I don’t have those same connections. Even though I’ve attended there with my immediate family for years, the type of connection I feel is not the same. It’s not that deep familial connection with the past. I would hate to see it close but I wouldn’t miss it like I would miss the old churches of my ancestors.

What about you? Have you visited the churches where your ancestors worshiped? Are they even still standing? Perhaps it’s not too late for you. Whether you live in metro Detroit where church closings are imminent or another area of the country, you may lose the opportunity to do so soon if you haven’t already. The shortage of priests isn’t going away soon. More church closings are probably coming to a diocese near you. Take the opportunity now to visit the churches of your ancestors. You’ll be glad you did.

Saint Lucy was born about 283 AD in Syracuse, Sicily and died about 304 AD in the same area. The thing about saints born so long ago is that there weren’t many (if any) records kept to detail their lives and deaths. Often times their histories were told and retold orally many times before they were ever written down. Legends grew over time. There are several legends attributed to Saint Lucy, some may be based in truth, others may be nothing more than myths. It’s hard to say which are which.

Photo from Wikipedia

One legend says Lucy was betrothed against her will and vowed to remain a virgin as a pledge to her faith in Jesus Christ. Supposedly her betrothed didn’t like that idea and reported her (as a Christian) to the Roman authorities. The legend has it that her eyes were gouged out as punishment. Or she gouged them out herself and offered them to her captors. (There are different versions.) This legend was commonly believed and when she was the subject of artists in the 1500s she was depicted with her eyeballs on a plate. And for that reason and because her name means “light”, she is the patron saint of the blind and eye disorders.

The one thing that seems to be accepted as fact is that she was persecuted for her belief in Jesus Christ.

Photo from Wikipedia

There are St Lucy (Lucia) light festivals held in some Scandinavian countries. According to folk legend, December 13th follows the longest night of the year in Sweden. In celebration, school girls dress up in white robes with a candle-lit wreath on their heads. What a lovely sight that must be!

In Italy and Sicily, Saint Lucy is honored on December 13th with dinner feasts of pasta dishes and other Italian foods. Now that’s a grand idea, don’t you think? Perhaps you will honor Saint Lucy with pasta at dinner tonight!

My mother’s name was Lucy. Actually, she was baptized in the Catholic church as Lucja (Polish version of Lucy) and legally her name was Lucille. But everyone called her Lucy. I always wondered why she was given that name. She wasn’t named for anyone in the family. Nor for her Godmother. Nor for my grandmother’s best friend in America. The thought crossed my mind that she may have been named for St Lucy but I can’t find any information about the saint that would have my grandmother naming her daughter after her. And the timing wasn’t right for her to have been named for the saint simply because her birth was in close proximity to the feast day. The Feast of St Lucy is today, December 13th while my mother was born in July. Perhaps she was given the name simply because my grandmother or grandfather liked it. Back in 1918, when she was born, Lucille was the 29th most common name for baby girls.

I come from a long line of Polish Catholics. I’ve long been interested in how my ancestors celebrated the various holidays, saint’s feast days, and other holy days. The Catholic Poles had many, many religious ceremonies and prayer services unheard of here in the United States or elsewhere in the world. Poland has long been a country that struggled for peace, was dominated and taken over by its neighbors, and suffered when those neighbors tried to extinguish its very culture. Through it all, the strong faith of the people of this predominantly Catholic country has prevailed. It’s enlightening to take a look at the religious rites that were and still are practiced in Poland, the land of my ancestors. Here is an example of a Polish Catholic prayer service for the Advent season.

A traditional Polish observance of the season of Advent differs greatly from the heavily commercialized time before Christmas in this country. It is a time of reflection and spiritual preparation for the coming of Christ at Christmas. The word advent comes from the Latin adventus which means the coming. We await the coming of the Messiah not only in the flesh but also for His second coming as Judge at the end of the world. Hope is the dominant characteristic of the season of Advent. There is a focus during the season on our longing for God’s grace and His friendship. It is understood that parties, weddings, and other boisterous events would be an obstacle to the search for God’s grace and building that friendship, and so they are avoided. Advent is also a time for reconciliation with God through the Sacrament of Penance.

Throughout advent many people in Poland participate in an early morning Mass called Roraty. It begins just before sunrise in almost complete darkness in the church. The name roraty comes from the ancient Latin chant that is sung to begin the service: Rorate Coeli, de super; et nubes pluant justum – O Heavens, drop down your dew from on high and may the Just One be rained by the clouds. The words of the ancient hymn are a plea for God’s gift of His Son. As the hymn is sung candles are gradually lit in the dark church. Roraty is a kind of daily Advent vigil ceremony. The people wait in darkness not only for the rising of the sun but ultimately for the return of the Son of God, so beautifully symbolized by dawn’s first light.

The roraty service has a definite Marian dimension to it as does the entire season of Advent. In the sanctuary is found one special candle that is more predominate than the others used in the ceremony. It is traditionally decorated with greenery and white ribbon in honor of the Blessed Virgin Mary, who plays and important role in the raining down of the Just One.

The Advent roraty ceremony originated in the 13th century during the reign of King Boleslaw Wstydliwy (the Bashful) who was the husband of St Kinga. According to historical documents, a representative of every social state lit one candle of a specially prepared seven-branch candelabrum in the cathedral at the early morning service, starting with the king. As each man lit his candle he proclaimed: Paratus sum ad adventum Domini/Gotow jestem na pryjscie Pana – I am ready for the coming of the Lord! After the king lit his candle he was followed by the cardinal primate, then a senator, a nobleman, a knight, a townsman and finally the seventh candle was lit by a peasant farmer.

Preparation for the Lord’s coming, both interior and spiritual as well as exterior and temporal is an integral part of a truly Catholic observance of the holy season of Advent.

My Godmother was my favorite aunt. Cecilia Laska was born November 18, 1912 in Detroit, Michigan. She always went by, “Ceily”, so to me she was “Auntie Ceily”. She was closest in age to my dad and was the 4th child, 2nd daughter, of the 11 children of Jozef Laska and Karolina Lipa.

Ceily was a diamond among stones. She was the cultured one in the family and had refined tastes. She was the one who appreciated fine art (and had reproductions hanging in her home), music (the only one in the family to own a musical instrument), shopped at better stores and wore the nicest clothes money could buy. She even had a signature fragrance, Chanel No. 5. Whenever I smell that scent I always think of her.

Ceily Laska Sagovac, 1949

As a child I was fascinated by Auntie Ceily. I idolized her like a Hollywood movie star. I thought I was the luckiest kid on earth to have her for my Godmother. She was very good to me in the material sense but more importantly she was always kind to me. She made a point of talking to me even when there were other adults around. And she never missed an occasion to give me a gift… birthdays, Christmas, Easter, First Holy Communion, graduation. She always remembered me and I adored her. Sadly, Auntie Ceily died of lung cancer in 1989 but she will live in my heart forever.

Today, November 22, is the Feastday of St Cecilia. I’ve no doubt that my Auntie Ceily was named for St Cecilia. It was common for Poles and Americans of Polish descent to name their children after the saint whose feastday was closest to the day of their birth. It’s interesting that my Auntie Ceily and St Cecilia had some things in common too.

It is believed that St Cecilia was born in the 2nd or 3rd century AD in Rome although the exact dates of her birth and martyrdom are unknown. It’s said she was an only child born to wealthy, Christian, educated parents but promised in marriage to a pagan Roman, Valerian, when she was just a young child. Reports of her life differ from one source to another but most agree she was cultured and came from a privileged background.

Painting of St Cecilia done in 1606

A story is told of how Cecilia prayed to God and the saints to protect her virginity and after her wedding to Valerian she told him she was protected by the angels and saints. He then asked her to show him the angel protecting her. She sent him to Pope Urban (223-230) who baptized/converted him and when he returned he found Cecilia praying in a chapel and an angel with flaming wings nearby. Valerian and Cecilia were discovered in that chapel by Valerian’s brother and he was so awed by what he saw that he too converted.

Some time after that, Valerian and his brother were put to death by the Roman prefect. Then, Cecilia too was ordered to be put to death but not before she made arrangements to have her home converted into a church. As the story goes, Cecilia was first sentenced to death by steaming but she survived that. Then she was sentenced to die of beheading. Three attempts were made to behead her before her executioner gave up and fled in fear. It is said that she lingered for three days, baptizing many during that time, until she bled to death.

At some point, (some sources say when she was about to be married others say when she was on her deathbed) Cecilia “sang or heard heavenly music in her heart”. That image caught on and she was forever more known as the patron saint of music, especially church music, and musical instruments. In paintings and art work she is most often portrayed with an organ or violin.

My Auntie Ceily was no St Cecilia but I find it intriguing that she was the only one in her poor immigrant family who lived a cultured life, like the saint she was named for. And the man she married, I wouldn’t go so far as to call him a pagan but he wasn’t Catholic and she married him in a civil ceremony much to the chagrin of her parents who were devout Catholics. I’m not sure if he converted to Catholicism later in life or not but after 20 years together their marriage was finally blessed in a Catholic church. And lastly, Ceily owned first a piano and later an organ. She was the only one in the family to do so. I don’t recall her ever playing either the piano or the organ but I remember plunking away on those ivory keys when we visited her home.